Changing Times
by Rosie eisoR
Summary: Sorrow has hit Tortall. Two years ago, the Prince, not even a knight, and his would-be squire died. The King and Queen followed shortly after. Others vanished that night too. Those left struggle to rebuild Tortall. Can they change what's set in motion?
1. Raoul

The memories of the Chamber haunted his mind. Sleeping or awake, there was no release from the images he had seen there.

_The door closed behind him. Tears were dry on his cheeks – the time for reflection had served to open fresh wounds. He shivered, wondering what the Chamber could show him that would be worse than life at the moment. Life without hope, it seemed._

_He was not alone. Alan and Jon lay in a mangled heap on the floor. Their faces seemed impossibly aged, shrivelled and wrinkled. Alan's red hair flamed like a signal. Jon's, by contrast, remained the black of the __midnight__ sky._

_Raoul__ squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was imprinted on the back of his lids. _

_Alan's corpse became animated. The wrinkles smoothed and the suddenly agile page leapt to his feet._

_"Cold," he mumbled, rubbing his hands together. "Cold, and so… alone."_

I know. I'm sorry, _Raoul__ thought, fighting to keep himself from uttering the words aloud._

_"Nobody came. So many friends, and nobody came to help." The tone in the small boy's voice was wondering, as if he could not understand. Teetering on the verge of being asked was the question Raoul could not answer._

_Why._

_Why hadn't they come to help?_

I know. I'm sorry.

_"Nobody avenged us."_

I couldn't. I'm sorry.

_"He had his cousin killed, so you gave him the country?!" Alan hissed, violet eyes flashing with anger. Raoul reached out to touch him, to calm him, and-_

_And found himself in what was presumably the King's chambers. "Fools," a silky voice murmured. "Their precious Prince dies, and they crown the person responsible."_

_The scene changed, just as the two occupants linked glasses. Just as their triumphant laughter began to ring in his ears. Just as he realised they were Delia of Eldorne and Alexander of Tirragen._

_That night, the Chamber took him through villages, starving because King Roger had raised taxes to fund his wars. Families, torn apart so the king could have his formidable army. The Gods, turning their faces from Tortall._

_One thing was clear, he knew, as he stumbled out of the Chamber._

_He had to bring Roger down._

"George, I need your help."

"Oh, aye?" The thief's hazel eyes sharpened. Raoul had a feeling he knew exactly what Raoul had to ask, and was wondering what had taken him so long about it.

He took in a deep breath. This was treason. It was ridiculous. Unthinkable. Necessary. "I want you to help me bring down the King."

The large knight was becoming impatient. He had already searched the mess hall, the library, Gary's rooms and the gardens. His friend was apparently nowhere to be found.

Raoul was wary of the practice courts, simply because Alex frequented there, and close contact with Alex was not a desirable thing. Still, he should be able to come and go easily.

Cautiously, he pushed open the door.

"Raoul? Fancy a fence?"


	2. Alex

Alex waited, excitement bubbling just under the surface. He watched his large friend's eyes dart over the room, no doubt searching for an escape, some way to get away from Alex. He had been finding them often lately, but it would be rude to refuse so bluntly. If Raoul chose that option, Alex was ready to challenge him.

He didn't. "Of course."

"Good," Alex replied, although he didn't mean it. He silently cursed the bigger knight for not giving him an opportunity to kill him. Yet, that was.

Alex lowered his dark eyes as he picked up his practice sword. It would be so easy to finish him here. He could even dump the body afterwards, and nobody would be any the wiser. Everybody knew the young noble knights favoured these courts, particularly the King's favourite, Alexander of Tirragen. Nobody would disturb them. "Then I suggest we start. Unless –" He allowed the hint of a sneer to creep into his voice – "Unless you need to warm up first?"

"No," Raoul replied flatly, picking up his own wooden practice sword. "Do you?"

In answer, Alex walked over to his older friend. "Guard," he whispered. Their swords locked together, and it began.

Raoul wasn't much of a swordsman. Oh, he could probably hold his own, but it wasn't enough against Alex. Alex was the best. Everybody knew it. Raoul couldn't even hope to come close. The stupid, clumsy oaf kept almost losing the pace at the beginning as Alex's sword whipped around his one.

"Too fast?" Alex asked contemptuously. His old friend's brow furrowed in concentration – the attempt to distract him hadn't worked. Left, down, right, down, left, up, down. Raoul broke away, panting. "Do you need your space?"

"I thought this was a practice," the bigger knight protested, wariness creeping into his dark eyes.

"It was," Alex replied smoothly, striking towards Raoul. The other knight brought his weapon up just in time, forcing Alex's back. The slender man gritted his teeth and held on.

The result was a splintering of wood and Alex was left staring at his ruined sword.

Astonishment was replaced by a slow smile. Alex reached down to unsheathe his real sword.

Raoul's protests were cut short as Alex began to attack. He parried Alex's blows – barely. The silver blade snaked in and out of Raoul's sword like a snake in grass. The larger man was clearly panicking now. Alex twined his sword around Raoul's. This brought the two old friends body-to-body, an advantage for Raoul. Now it was Alex's turn to worry, if only for a split second. His muscles screamed as he held on, but he was being forced to his knees. This was no good.

The slender knight broke away. In a swift movement, his sword had come to rest at the base of Raoul's throat. "Say goodbye," he threatened, mockingly. 


End file.
